


Out of Patience

by arthurmorgan-s-heart (Silverblind)



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angry Sex, Choking, Clothed Sex, F/M, Female Reader, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 09:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17485502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverblind/pseuds/arthurmorgan-s-heart
Summary: Arthur has had enough, and puts you in your place.





	Out of Patience

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fill from my tumblr blog. Uploaded here for convenience - find me on tumblr - arthurmorgan-s-heart
> 
> Original request text: "Arthur x fem reader where he's has enough of her attitude and sass"

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Arthur so angry - but in your own rage, you find that you don’t care. You sit on the edge of the table in the corner of the abandoned cottage in which you’d stopped for the night, arms crossed over your chest as he glares at you from across the room.

“Told you to wait for my signal before shootin’. We coulda died out there!” he snaps. “What were you thinkin’?”

You scoff at his words, and you hear him take in a sharp breath - you’re riling him up, and you know it.

“They woulda seen us if we waited any longer,” you reply. “Lost the element of surprise.”

“So it’s better to get us killed than to lose the goddamn  _element of surprise_?” he barks as he stomps closer to you. You stand and face him, hands on your hips; had he been anyone else, you might have been intimidated - frightened, even. But this is Arthur, and you know him too well to think for even a single second that he would do anything to hurt you. You get along well, for the most part, except for infrequent - but always explosive - arguments - just like now. But something’s different this time; you’ve never seen the flame in his eyes burn quite so dark before, and you’d never heard that edge of frustration to his words - a frustration that seems to have little to do with the matter at hand. He looms over you, almost close enough to touch, anger rolling off him in waves - along with an unmistakable heat that has molten sparks dancing under your skin. You’d seen that heat before, and the same burned inside you. You know what he wants, you can feel it - and part of you wishes he’d just  _take_ it.

“Now listen here,  _princess_ ,” he grinds out between gritted teeth,  and you flinch at the taunt, ignoring the sharp point of heat running up your spine as you open your mouth to snap back, but he speaks again before you can utter a single word. “Each one of us got a place in this gang. You been with us long enough that you shoulda learned yours - but I don’t think you have.”

“So, what, you gonna teach me a lesson?” you ask mockingly, cocking your head and smiling insolently as you look up to meet his gaze - there is rage boiling in his eyes, but something else as well, dark and heavy and  _hungry_. You feel heat bloom in your stomach at the sight, and you suddenly realise how close you are to him - a single step, and you could kiss him. Your gaze drops to his lips - half-open, inviting - before flicking back up to his eyes. He  _saw_ , you know he did. Your next words are hardly more than a whisper. “You gonna punish me?”

White-hot want flashes in his eyes at your words - gone in half a breath, though not quickly enough to go unnoticed. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him look you over, inch by inch, as if trying to see into the very core of you.

“That what you want?” he growls - the unspoken promise in his voice has fire threading through every vein in your body, gathering in one great burst of heat in your stomach. He steps closer, and suddenly his hands are on your hips, drawing you flush against him. You open your mouth to speak, but any words you might have said catch in your throat as one hand leaves your hips to come up to your cheek, angling your head up - you might have called the touch gentle had the circumstances been any different. There’s something simmering under his skin, ready to burst at any moment. “That what you  _need_?”

“Won’t know until you try.” The words escape your mouth before you can even think about their weight, and something seems to snap inside him then, the last of his restraint forgotten as he pulls you into a harsh, demanding kiss. The hand he held to your cheek moves to the back of your head, tangling tightly into your hair. You bring your hands up to his chest, groping blindly until you find the lapels of his jacket, yanking him closer as you allow your teeth to graze his lower lip. He growls at that, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes, his grip on your hair loosening as he takes a moment to look at you, trailing his fingers down the back of your neck before coming back around to your collarbone, almost tender, and you feel his other hand come up as he starts working on unbuttoning your shirt. One by one the buttons slip free, and you feel him rake his eyes over you as your shirt falls open, one hand gripping your waist while the other cups your breast, teasing the nipple with the rough pad of his thumb. You lean up to kiss him again, but you gasp in surprise when he turns you around instead, pressing his chest to your back as he bends you over the table, pushing you against it - so hard that you can feel the edge dig painfully into your thighs, though you can’t bring yourself to care. You put your hands on the table to steady yourself as he kisses at the nape of your neck, his own hands finding your hips. You feel him grind against you, hard and heavy and  _warm_ , so warm that you think you might be melting, and he groans when you push back against him, craving more of his heat, more of his touch, more of  _him_.

“Your belt,” he whispers against your ear. His tone is hard, unyielding.

“Yes, sir,” you reply mockingly - even though you feel another rush of heat surge through you as you obey him. The buckle falls open easily under your fingers, and you make quick work of the buttons as well, returning your hands to the table when you’re done. He kisses your neck as he shifts one hand to your front, splaying a hand over your stomach before reaching down into your undone trousers, working his way past the layers of cloth until he can press two fingers against your core, the light touch enough to wring a moan out of you as he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Jesus,” he breathes as he slowly moves his fingers back and forth, coming up to circle your center before moving back down again. “That all for me?”

You feel like you should answer, but you can only manage a pleading whine as he pushes one finger inside you, then another, chuckling as you grind yourself down on his hand. Heat quickly builds within you, coiling in your stomach, and your hand shoots to his, your fingers closing around his wrist to keep him in place - just a little more, just a little longer, a little harder -

“Feels like you been waitin’ for this a while, princess,” he whispers, snapping you out of your heated daze, and you turn your head to look at him; there’s a hard set to his jaw, and his lips are pressed into a thin, grim line, but his eyes betray him - he’s enjoying this. “Haven’t you?”

You don’t answer, too wrapped up in your pleasure, and his fingers still inside you, just as you’re about to come apart - you groan in protest as you’re dragged back from the edge, and when you try to move by yourself, he takes his hand from you entirely, placing it back on your hip for a moment before he reaches up, up and up until he finds your neck. You gasp in surprise when you feel his fingers close around your throat, pressing just hard enough to remind you of his strength, and a shiver of excitement runs up your spine. His grip loosens when he feels you shudder in his grasp, but you push back against him -  _don’t you dare_. He groans as his hips give an involuntary jolt, his patience - and yours - starting to wear thin.

“ _Haven’t you_?” he growls, hand still around your neck while the other grips your hip tightly.

“Yes,” you breathe almost inaudibly. “Yes, I have.”

The last word has barely left your mouth that he turns you back around to face him, kissing you forcefully, and you kick your boots off as you feel him start to pull your underwear and pants down your legs until they pool at your ankles, allowing you to step out of them. His hands move to the back of your thighs, groaning at the feel of your bare skin under his touch as he lifts you up to sit on the edge of the table, and you reach for his jacket again, pulling him to you as you spread your legs for him. He kisses you again as you slide your hands down his chest and over his stomach until you find his belt, blindly working the buckle free as he tracks kisses and nips from your mouth to your ear and down the side of your neck. His hands come to join yours, undoing his trousers, and you feel him shove his pants down just enough to free himself. You reach for him, but he bats your hand away, leaning back to meet your gaze as he brings himself closer to your core, stilling mere inches away from where you want him most. You huff in frustration, bringing yourself closer to the edge of the table, closer to  _him_ \- though it’s not enough.

“You want this?” his voice is low and raw, his breath short and quick - and despite the remnants of his anger, his words are still edged with concern and disbelief.

“Yes,” you whisper, and you don’t care how desperate you sound - you’d waited for this for too long. The beating of your own heart is almost too loud to bear. “ _Please_.”

You reach down between you to take him in your hand - he doesn’t stop you this time, groaning when your fingers close around him. You give a single, long stroke before guiding him forward, pressing him against you before he takes it upon himself to push inside you in one slow, smooth motion. You can only moan as you let your head fall back, and you feel him grip your thighs tightly as he takes in a shuddering breath.

“Jesus…” he hisses, letting his head fall forward to press his forehead to your shoulder as he gives a few shallow, experimental thrusts. Your hands reach for his hips in a silent plea -  _more_. He steadies himself with one hand flat on the table behind you, the other hooking under your thigh as he nips at your collarbone -  _yes_.

He’s not gentle, or tender - but you hadn’t expected him to be. His thrusts come fast and hard as he takes his pleasure - takes and takes and  _takes_ , though you give gladly -, growling out praise in ragged whispers that you can barely grasp.

“Always knew you’d feel good,” he breathes, leaning away slightly so that he can meet your gaze. His hand moves for your thigh to your chest, splaying a hand over your collarbone, his thumb stroking up and down the side of your neck - you shiver at the memory of his grip around your throat. “Knew you’d feel perfect for me…”

“Guessin’ that means you been wantin’ to teach me that lesson for a while,” you whisper teasingly, his eyes flicking to your lips as you let an insolent smile tug at your lips.

“Yeah,” he says, slowing his rhythm until he’s barely moving at all - your hands are still on his hips, bunching into fists in the fabric of his jacket as you try to urge him on, though he stays obstinately still. “Knew someone’d need to put you in your  _goddamn_ place eventually.”

His voice is low and rough with the last of his anger, and the kiss he presses to your lips as he finally relents and starts to move again is just as harsh as before - seems he has no patience left for teasing. His hand leaves your chest to reach down between the two of you, and you moan into his mouth when you feel his fingers at your center again, rubbing tight circles in time with his rough thrusts - he never was a selfish man.

“Always wanted it to be you,” you whisper against his lips, and you feel his hips stutter against yours. “ _Only you_.”

He doesn’t seem to be able to manage an answer as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, and your hands leave his hips to smooth up his broad back until you can tangle your fingers in his hair, throwing your head back as you feel yourself come undone. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel the telltale shiver run up your spine, and you don’t realise you’re calling his name over and over until he pulls from you, spilling himself on your thigh as his hot breath fans over the skin of your chest with every gasp and moan that escapes him as he shudders against you.

You expect him to pull away, but he stays still a long time, allowing you to run your fingers through his hair as you kiss his temple. You feel him press his lips to the side of your neck, the soft, gentle contact seeming almost out of place after what had just happened.

“So,” he starts. “You learned your lesson yet?”

You laugh quietly, and he smiles against your skin.

“Think I might need a few more lessons,” you say. “Later.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is out of character for Arthur, but I needed to write it for uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh………. reasons
> 
> Also, turns out I’m garbage at writing angry sex - but well, I wrote it, so I might as well post it


End file.
